It Lacks Judgement

Bonnie, the girl I've talked of so many times before


I am lost, in a post-modern fantasy
As I traverse through this stagnat energy
The branches of an old and forgotton
tree reach out for me, stretching
It lacks judgement, and misunderstood apathy
I look around and I find that I am alone
Alone Alone

Thanks to Bonnieology for writing me this poem, a treatment of my existential crisis. Still, she gets it.

**

I’ve learned a secret about the Army: You can shine your boots, be on time, snap to attention, and go the extra mile. Any or all of these things will ultimately get you no where (unless you count the personal satisfaction which comes from integrity and doing the right thing—but we are speaking in purely superficial terms here). Trust me—I’ve tried (read: I’ve watched others try, from a sitting position).

So how do you get the respect, admiration, jealousy even of your fellow soldiers? How do you prove to them that you are worth something more than the ordinary? You hit the ping-pong ball better than anyone else. A vicious backhand with spiraling topspin will win you more praise and reverence than any amount of hard work ever will.

It lacks judgement; a sad, sad fact in a mad, mad world.